Hurting.
Those all around, go spinning, laughing about
To be saved from your hurt, you wonder, you doubt
To run, hide, and curl up tight
Never another laugh, never another light
The dark clouds, they run, chased by the rain
Stand with me, don’t go, don’t give in to the pain.
That is a short excerpt from my poetry. Facing some of our hardship, those things in our lives that hold us back or scare us, we get cut by them and we bleed from those wounds. We all suffer and we all bleed from our pain in different ways. I have found that from facing my hard stuff directly and with resolve, I can get back to the good stuff more quickly. I have given up before but I am not gone. We have lost others, who gave up for good, and they will be loved and remembered forever. At times, I stand small in the dark, in the shadows, and other times I stand tall with the sunshine on my face. I prefer the sun and accept the dark.
These times here, they be tough stuff for sure. Civil and social dysfunction. The softening of patience, empathy, and kindness. Placing some of us in the crosshairs. Quite literally in crosshairs, especially for our brothers and sisters of color and of native descent. Socially in crosshairs on those channels designed to connect us, bring us closer together, and build bridges between us humans but on some levels are tearing us apart.
The pipeline of paychecks has sprung a leak for many. We all try to adapt to a new way, some proceed with disdain. I wish for you, all of you, peace. Peace within and peace without. Are we there yet? No, not yet but we are on our way to somewhere. We may be lost on our journey, no longer possessing a crystal-clear destination. Sometimes the journeys off-course produce sparks of beauty, sometimes.
I work on that which I can control. The world’s problems are my problems and I am trying to help. I know not your struggle, I cannot carry the weight of your pain. I wish you peace. And I wish you strength. Strength to keep fighting, trying to be patient with yourself and others. Strength to remember how it feels to be lower than low, cast aside, and unrevered >>> hold that feeling of the emptiness that resides inside you and try to use this lens when viewing others. All of our blood is the same color, we bleed differently but our blood is the same. We ALL came from the singular one same place where human life began, ALL. Strength to be kind, even when you want to fight, scream, and ignore.
I wish you strength. To sing your song, dance your dance, love your love, and fight your fight. Lastly, I wish you safety in your pursuit.
With that which I cannot control, I try to let go of. My low-energy athletic fatigue problem since August 5th this year has not dissipated. My doctor’s visit and complete bloodwork tests resulted in no negative findings. Not anemic. No Lyme Disease. No COVID-19. I began work with a new nutritionalist yesterday, trying to address things from within. I have another doctor, my favorite, and an athlete himself, who I will see in the near future and I am looping back to look at what changes occurred at the specific time when a switch was flipped off with my fatigue almost two months ago. I am riding a little, writing a lot, getting chores and projects done, and trying to make a difference in the world, one small act at a time.
Mother Teresa said it best: “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” I have always liked that.
I would like to add one singular word to her beautifully perfect saying: Not all of us can do great things. But we ALL can do small things with great love.
One last share from others. Industrial heavy rocker musician Trent Reznor wrote a song called ‘Hurt’ almost 25 years ago. Trent recorded and has performed that song to great fanfare under his band name, Nine Inch Nails. Trent is a dark but powerfully talented and successful artist. But as successful as that song has been and as successfully as Trent and Nine Inch Nails has performed that song for more than two decades, another artist has done it one better.
The great Johnny Cash covered Trent’s song, Hurt. It was the mighty and iconic music producer Rick Rubin who convinced Johnny (JR) Cash to record the song. JR was close to death in 2003, fighting a long fight of a life hard lived when he finally put his voice to Trent’s lyrics. The audio recording tells the tale of the condition JR Cash was in at the time, struggling to put his effort to voice through the microphone. This would be the last work of JR Cash’s life. JR recorded Hurt in Nashville during a chilling February 2003 and just three months later, June Carter Cash, the love of JR’s life died. Four months after June died, JR Cash died and joined his his wife, his love, June, once and for all.
JR Cash never lived to know the level of success his version of Hurt would have on the music world. The recording of Hurt by Johnny Cash continues to grow in popularity, to a much higher level of success than Trent will ever do on his own. I think, some of the success around JR’s version is because it’s Johnny-fucking-Cash, one of the original and most famous bad boys ever birthed. Next, I think it is because you can tell in the recording that JR was struggling and near the end of his life. I also think that JR brought his pain, his struggle, his hurt, and he injected it into the work of art that Trent created through words. The story goes that when Trent first heard the recording of JR doing his song, Trent thought it was corny. But then when Trent saw the music video they did of JR’s version, Trent was brought to tears.
Some of us share our pain, we open up and let others in to help with our hurt. Some of us don’t let anyone in, we bury it, hide it, and fear it. Thankfully with this song, Trent shared it, Rick injected it, and JR bled it, all for us: For us to relate. For us to share. For us to feel, and hopefully for us to heal.
A short excerpt from the lyrics of the song Hurt:
If I could start again
A million miles away
I will keep myself
I would find a way.
